Burn One
by KiwiWire
Summary: Your name is Gamzee Motherfucking Makara, and you aren't a good motherfucker when you're sober. That's why Karkat sent you to this place- so you could get better. You aren't going to get better. Nothing would change your habit, not Karkat, not Tavros- No one. And frankly, you're okay with that. GamTav. Drugs and Violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings (Feel free to skip them if you don't care):**

Before we start, I'd just like to say that drugs are bad, kiddies. You should never aspire to be as dependent on drugs as Gamzee is in this story. Don't aspire to be that dependent on anything. Another warning- I have never been on drugs, nor have I ever been to a rehab clinic. This story will probably be a (very large) stretch from what it's really like (in fact, I'm pretty sure Rehab Clinics work nothing like how I portray them), but I will try my best to convey realism. Yeah, so… Don't take it too seriously.

Now that that's over with, this story is for my friend. I hope she likes the story, and I hope you guys do, too~ :D

* * *

Your name is Gamzee Makara. Your name is Gamzee Makara, and they have no idea what you're like when you're sober. You aren't a good person by any stretch of the word when you're sober. You don't think straight. The world feels heavier when you're sober- it presses down on your fucking shoulders and forces you on your knees. You're one motherfucker who shouldn't be kept away from his greens for very long. Being sober does worse things to your mind than being high does. Everyone who knows you knows that. You're just not the same.

Karkat was one of the people who have seen you sober- a person who truly experienced what you're like when you haven't smoked for days. So you have no motherfucking idea why the hell _he, _of all people, would be the one to send you to a rehab center. He sent you to a place where you would be sober for days on end; a place where they'd hope to take away your drugs forever. Hm. And you thought the motherfucker was supposed to be your friend.

"This place is against miracles," You said as Karkat pulled you out of the car and onto the sidewalk. For now, you're as cool as a motherfucking cucumber, but that's only because you're still a bit stoned from the last joint you had. It was wearing off fast, though. It'd be only a matter of time before shit hit the fan.

"Well fuck, Gamzee." Karkat says, furrowing his eyebrows impatiently. "I could have taken you to a church. Then Jesus could have flown off the cross and sprinkled magic miracle flakes on top of your head or something."

"Or you could have just let me bake some hash brownies," You say temptingly. "I would have shared."

Karkat rolls his eyes and tries to drag you along by your wrist, but you're much taller and stronger than he is. You give him a goofy smile, but on the inside you were still relatively pissed.

Karkat clicks his tongue, nodding in the direction of the rehab office. It was a big place with two large steel framed doors. Doors that didn't look very inviting. You think they should have painted it a different color. Maybe purple, or blue.

"Fuckass, are you going to move, or am I going to have to tie you to the back of my car and crash you in there?"

You smile, staying exactly where you were. "Calm down a little, Karkat. Let's just stay here and admire some miracles before those motherfuckers take them away from me."

Karkat sighs loudly and let's go of your wrist. "You have five seconds. No fucking more than that."

So you relish your five seconds by watching little fucking miracles crawling around on the grass- they're called, uh, ants, right? You watch them carry around blades of grass. You can't figure out whether you should be jealous of them- the fact that they get to have _their_ greens while you can't- or happy that they're free. You can hear Karkat talking to himself about you being a hippie, but you don't care. You're happy, for now, noticing the little things in life.

"C'mon, asshole." Karkat says, tugging on your wrist again. He takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes. You stare back. For a while it's a staring contest. Then, Karkat hugs you. It's something that doesn't happen very often. "I just want you to get fucking better."

You wanted to say something along the lines of how this isn't going to help, that you're completely fine how you are and how this was just going to make you worse, but you didn't. For Karkat's fucking sake, you hope that this makes him happy. You'd try not to break a nurse's arm or something.

Ruffling your friend's messy black hair, you follow him into the large building ahead. You'd find some way to sneak something in there. If they think speeches and talk groups are going to change you, they have another thing coming.

* * *

"Yeah, he gets a little agitated without it." Karkat says to the lady at the counter. She nods, jotting down notes in her little black book. You look at the name tag stuck onto her blue striped shirt that read 'Jade Harley' in cute, curly green handwriting.

You sat in a cheap metal chair, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. Sometimes, despite what it does to your eyes, you just like to stare at bright things in wonder.

"Would he work better with a group or separately?"

You hate this. You feel like a little kid being ripped away from an amusement park. You realize that you won't have anything to smoke for a while. You dig your nails into your palm.

"He'd be best alone."

Fuck yeah, you would. That's why Karkat should just leave you alone. You're best by yourself. You gnaw at the bottom of your lip, and that Jade motherfucker looks over at you with worried eyes.

"Is he, uh, under the influence right now?" She asks nervously in a small voice. You wonder how qualified she is for the job. She looks younger than you- she couldn't possibly even begin to comprehend what your weed means to you. She hasn't fully experienced miracles. She didn't know.

Karkat gives you a sideways look, an expression that read he was sorry, and then turned back to Jade. "If he weren't, he'd be at all of our throats."

"Oh." The little girl looks nervous. "So does that mean I should assign him a strict warden?"

Karkat drums his fingers on the table. "Not strict… Just, someone who understands, if that makes sense. He gets really crazy without it, so just someone who would be able to calm him. Just like, pat his face without getting too scared."

You guess you have some faith in Karkat's decision. He's just looking out for you. Fuck, he probably knows better than you. You're still fully stuck on the idea that you're best the way you are, but you'll entertain your friend's plan for as long as you could.

"O-okay," Jade jots some more notes down in the black notebook and types some things into the computer. "Will he be staying in one of the dorms? Or is he going home after each visit?"

"He'll stay."

Oh fuck no. Why would your motherfucking best friend do that to you?

"Alright," Jade says with a smile. She looked over at you again and waves. You don't wave back. She looks down bashfully and bites the inside of her cheek. "Uh, well… You're going to be paying for this?"

Karkat nodded, and you felt something in your throat. Guilt- that's what was bubbled up in your throat. He really, _really_ didn't have to do this. You don't know why he is.

"The cost for a one-month, individual treatment procedure- plus the cost of the overnight stay- would come out to be $24, 000 dollars." Jade states simply and Karkat curses rather loudly underneath his breath.

"Uh, hey, Karkat." You say from your seat in the metal chair. "Seriously, don't do that. You're a good motherfucker, but it's not worth it, brother."

Jade sheepishly grins, "Uh, well, if it's a financial problem, we can find out an alternative way of payment, like community service or-"

"No. No fucking way," Karkat growls, digging through his pocket to get to his wallet. "Can I just put this all on a damn credit card? I'm not gonna fuck around at some old people's home or some shit."

Jade nods, taking Karkat's credit card and swiping it from that thing that people swipe credit cards through- you never knew what the fuck those things were called- and hands it back.

"Will you be visiting often?" The girl asks, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. You walk closer to the counter; close enough for Jade to get a better look at your face. Her eyes get wide, and she immediately looks down at her notebook again. She scribbles more notes frantically and gives Karkat a worried look.

She noticed your scars and was judging you for them.

"Yeah," Karkat replies, turning to you. "I'll be visiting as often as I can."

You shake your head, patting Karkat on the head a few times. "You are one insane motherfucker."

"-And you're a fuckass." Your friend adds, pushing you lightly away from him. You smile and open your arms wide.

"C'mon. One hug, for the motherfucking road?"

Karkat rolls his eyes and hugs you with little protest.

Jade pressed a button on the desk and called for a warden to escort you to your dorm. "Nurse Nitram? Yes, we have a patient for you. Lead him to room 6 C, on the left. You got that? Alright. Thanks."

Before letting go of Karkat, you gave him a soft peck on the forehead. He pulls away, blushing furiously- but to your astonishment, he doesn't blow up on you like you thought he would. Surprisingly, he leaves the rehab clinic wordlessly, turning around and waving to you before exiting the building. You hope he wasn't full of bullshit with the whole 'I'll be visiting as often as I can' thing. It would help a lot if you had a friend here with you.

You wrap your arms across your chest and go back to sitting in the cheap metal chair. You really don't like how it smells in this place- it was too clean and sterile. It smelled like a hospital, and you fucking hated motherfucking hospitals. They gave you bad memories. Hell, any memories that you had of being sober were bad memories. They flooded your mind like someone had broken the dam to your sanity and just let all the motherfucking sense leak out of your ears.

Jade was staring at your scars again. She was probably confused as to why she hadn't seen them in the first place, since they were pretty fucking apparent on your face. You've tried cover up, but the scratches still showed through no matter how much powder you layered onto your face. You just learned to not give a fuck about what people thought, even though the stares people gave you were still unsettling.

There were three diagonal scratches starting from the middle of your forehead that stretched across the entirety of your face. One even just barely missed your eye- a fact that you're thankful for, because if it _had_ gotten your eye, it would have most likely been ripped out of its socket. You only remember how it happened in bits and pieces. Karkat says that it's your subconscious trying to forget- you say that it's you not giving a fuck.

It was one of your ex-girlfriends. You had had plenty in the past. Bitches love you. They clamored and fawned and flirted; you couldn't help but give in to some of them. She had just gotten a manicure, her new nails French tipped and painted a deep royal purple. She went on to say that it was funny how the both of you loved that shade of purple.

She was one of the girls who tried to change you to become 'better'. She took away your weed and shoved it down the kitchen sink, making sure to turn on the garbage disposal on afterwards. In other words, she was a crazy bitch- but you guess she meant well.

So you were sober when this happened. When shit flew off the handle like shit was a newborn baby chick and was being pushed out of its nest for the first time, you were sober. You're always sober when bad things happen. You're not sure what you said, or what she said, or if there were any words even exchanged between the both of you, but something happened. Something happened that had her gripping at your shoulders, her nails digging underneath your shoulder blade and all across your back. She slashed her nails across your face in one quick, swift motion. You remember the antagonizing sting as the blood started to flow down your face, and that's when you think that's when you lost it. You tore her off of your body and forcefully threw her to the floor. You remember her screaming for you to stop; you remember her crying as your fist pummeled her body. Karkat told you that you beat her within an inch of her life, but you don't remember. All you remember is passing out, her cries for help playing in the background of a black screen; the end credits' last song without the text.

You beat her into a coma, Karkat said. He had a tough time explaining that to the doctors, but he told them a twisted version of the truth. He walked into your apartment and found the both of you beat up and on the floor. You claimed to have amnesia- which was also true- and your ex-girlfriend wasn't exactly conscious at the time to give any explanation. You haven't heard from her since.

You're a good guy, though. You're a good guy when you're stoned. When you're sober…

You see a male warden in pale blue scrubs round the corner and walk to Jade. He had an untidy black Mohawk and sweet blue eyes; you couldn't help but stare at him. He seemed pretty chill, if not a little worried.

"Uh, Jade. Where's the, uh, guy?" He asks, looking around nervously.

Jade, who had never taken her eyes off of your scars, nods her head towards you.

You wave at the Mohawk guy, and he looks behind him to make sure you weren't waving at someone else. When he makes sure you're waving at him, he waves back at you and smiles nervously. You decide he's cute.

He walks towards you, his eyes on the ground as he does, and then looks up. He stares at your scars- and just like Jade- his eyes widen. He looked kind of scared, but he held out his hand firmly. "I'm uh- Tavros. Tavros Nitram. You can, uh, call me Nurse Tavros or uh, Nurse Nitram…"

You shrug and take his hand, shaking it roughly. Tavros seems a little unsettled about this, but he smiled anyway. "Gamzee Ma-fucking-kara. Nice to meet you, Tavbro."

"Uh," He looks at the floor, and then he looks to the side. "It's uh- you kinda have to call me nurse- I mean, I don't have a problem with it, but it's just regulation…"

You stand up and marvel at how much taller you are than him. You pat the poor guy on the back and laugh. "Fine, I'll call you Nurse Tavbro, then."

Tavros bit his bottom lip and shied away from your touch. You wonder if he's scared of your scars or if he's just a scared person in general. It was probably a little bit of both.

"Your room is this way." He says quietly, leading you to the hallway on the left. You follow him with no complaint, but in the back of your mind you can feel it. You can feel the longing for a joint wriggling its way into your brain. You have to bite the inside of your lip to keep some composure. You take a deep breath and continue walking with him, looking at the doors and their numbers.

"Uh, C rooms are on the second floor, so I hope you're okay with elevators." Tavros explains, stepping in through open elevator doors. You follow, watching as Tavros pushes the second button on the button panel.

You shrug, "Are _you_ okay with motherfucking elevators?"

Tavros seems a little put off by your foul language, but he nods. "Uh, yeah. Elevators are nice."

"Good. I consider elevators motherfucking miracles. I mean, you press a button and it takes you higher. Who even tells it to do that? Miracles. That's what." You smile and look at the roof of the elevator. Maybe if you close your eyes you can pretend you're on a rising wave or some shit.

"Uh, yeah." You hear Tavros say again, uneasily. "Elevators are nice."

"You said that already, Nurse Tavbro." You're very amused at his nervousness. Is everyone who works at this place like that? Is everyone here shy little flowers? If so, they're going to be in for quite a surprise when your high wears off, and you're left sober with nothing to suppress your more violent urges.

"Oh, sorry. I uh, I guess."

You wonder why Tavros works at a place that makes him interact with people when he's so shy and nervous. Especially highly temperamental and depraved people such as the kinds of people who go to this rehab place. They really, _really_ need to get better qualified people there, you think- but what the fuck do you know?

The elevator stops after a few seconds, and Tavros steps out of the elevator, motioning to you to get out as well. You follow him down some bleak beige hallways, looking at the doors where other people just like you- depraved, frustrated- were occupying. You wonder how they feel. You wonder if they think that this is all just pointless like you do. You wonder if they truly are better than they used to be, but you kind of doubt it. Just a little bit.

"This is your room." Tavros said when you approached a door labeled 6 C and opened the door, escorting you into the room.

You're surprised to see that the room is actually pretty nice. It looks more like a hotel room than the jail cell or hospital room you thought it'd look like. You guess that if Karkat was going to pay that much money for this stupid motherfucking stay, it had better look nice.

"Do you like it?" Tavros asks, standing in the doorframe awkwardly.

Its motherfucking cozy, you suppose. There was a twin sized bed pushed to the corner of the room, its red sheets tucked in neatly. Above the bed were two metal plated windows covered by tan curtains. A small alarm clock and radio were situated next to the bed on a drawer. You turn to Tavros and smile.

"It seems pretty motherfucking okay, Tavbro." And you mean it.

"Good." Tavros grins, "Uh, the windows are shatterproof… They do that just in case you try to break out. They're, uh, sealed. You can't open them and try to leave either."

You weren't thinking about doing that, especially since you were on the second floor. You give Tavbro a sideways look, "Why would a motherfucker try to escape from a second story window?"

Tavros shyly looks at the ground, sticking his hand into the pocket of his scrubs. "Well, some people get depressed and they, uh."

"They all up and motherfucking jump?" You think about this for a while. Seems too motherfucking messy for you.

"Y-yeah." Tavros says, shuffling his feet on the carpet. "I know someone who did. I was looking after her, actually, so it'd be nice if you didn't, uh…"

"Ah, Tavbro. No worries. That's not the way I'd off myself if I wanted to off myself, you get it?" You don't think the motherfucker does, but he nods anyway and continues to look at the ground.

"Yeah, thank you. That'd be, uh, nice." Tavros whispers, looking at his wrist watch and then back at you. "It's getting late… I should let you get comfortable here, so I'll, uh, leave."

You walk closer to him and ruffle his Mohawk. It's softer than you thought it would be, considering you thought that it would be jelled and hard, but it's quite the motherfucking opposite. Tavros stays there, shocked maybe, and you laugh at his expression.

"You need to learn how to motherfucking lighten up. We should be bros." You say, patting Tavros on the back. Tavros gives a sheepish smile and steps away from your touch.

"T-thanks. Uh, we'll talk tomorrow, if you want. We can uh, 'chill'?"

"Motherfucking yeah, man!" You smile at him, and he chuckles nervously.

"Seriously, though. I have to go and, uh, attend to some of my other patients." Tavros smiles at you- and for the first time you think it's a comfortable, real smile. It's a beautiful miracle that you're glad you were a part of.

You wave at him and smile as he walks away. You had a feeling you two could be really good motherfucking bros. You two would get along well- as long as you weren't sober. You don't get along well with anyone when you're sober, and you know your slight high won't last until tomorrow. You're motherfucking upset about that, because you really wanted to hang out with Tavros, too.

You hope Karkat is fucking happy.

* * *

Scratch that. You hope Karkat is fucking ecstatic. You dig your nails into the sheets, the urge for a blunt overwhelming you. You've gone without weed for a day or two before, but only because of that damned ex-girlfriend. Your stoned-self feels really bad and remorseful for what you did to her- he regrets it and never wants to do that to anyone else ever again. Your sober-self, however, does not have the word 'sorry' or any of its synonyms in his vocabulary. He's a monster. You hate calling him 'you'.

You know how to overcome the first day pretty easily. You have to keep reminding yourself that you'll get a motherfucking hit later. It was hard, but you managed to get through it. Your ex-girlfriend was proud of you.

It's different this time, though. You know in the back of your think-pan that you _won't_ be getting a hit later. This place was designed to rip you away from your miracles and strip you down to your unforgiving, piece of shit sober-self for the rest of your life. Goddammit, you weren't going to be like that. You hope Karkat is just filled with fucking happiness. You hope he's taking a bath in a big, motherfucking pool of joy and singing mushy ass songs from those romantic comedies he always watches.

You hear a knock on the door. You really hope it isn't someone who'll annoy you to the point where you break. You hope that you won't pound the motherfucker's face in.

The door opens, and you see Karkat and Tavros carrying some bags with them. You almost immediately want to wrap your hands around Karkat's throat and strangle him to death, but you hold back. You hold back just because Tavros is there, and you're pretty sure he wouldn't want to be bros with you if he sees you strangling another guy right in front of him.

Karkat sets the bags down and inspects the room. "Not bad," You hear him say, and you pat him rather roughly on the head.

"How have you motherfucking been, Karkat?" You ask, and you know Karkat hears the slight edge to your voice.

Your friend sighs, patting your face like he always does to calm you down. He looks at Tavros, "If he ever gets worked up, just do this. No matter how scary he gets or acts- no matter if he tries to rip your face off, just do this. I have no idea why it works, but it does."

Tavros nods, looking a little nervous and pale. "He, uh, has a tendency to rip people's faces off?"

"Only when he's sober," Karkat sighs, 'shooshing' and 'papping' you until you're as chill as a motherfucking iceberg.

Tavros stood there awkwardly, watching as Karkat calmed you down. He looked torn between wanting to walk away and wanting to take notes. You smile at him.

"Aw, come on Tavbro." You say teasingly, walking over to him and opening your arms for a hug. "Join the motherfucking miracle that's taking place right now."

Tavros awkwardly scuttles into your arms. You tightly envelop him in a hug. He eventually moves his arms to hug you back, and you could feel his heart beat wildly against yours. You laugh at his nervousness, turning to Karkat.

"Oh hell fucking no, Gamzee." Karkat scowls, sitting down on the bed next to the bags. "You guys have your little mushy gushy moment, I'll just stay here, thank you very much."

You roll your eyes, "C'mon. We'll just be one big motherfucking bro sandwich."

Tavros makes a squeaking noise, and you're brought to attention that you're still tightly holding him. You let go, and Tavros takes a few indiscrete steps backwards.

"Uh," Tavros begins shyly, looking away from you, "You have an appointment with Doctor Ampora today."

You can't help but grimace a little bit at the word Doctor. You didn't really like them. It was sort of a phobia, but you'd try not to flip your lid.

"And after that," Tavros continues, "You need to go listen to a seminar about how drugs affect your body…"

You contemplate falling asleep during the seminar instead of actually listening to it, like you used to do during school assemblies.

"After that, what do I do?" You ask.

Tavros shrugs, looking down at his feet. "We have, uh, group activities where all the members go out and do things under the supervision of wardens, uh… I think they do pottery-"

Karkat bursts out into a fit of laughs at that, almost doubling over on the bed. "S-sorry, I was just imagining a bunch of stoners trying to work a kiln."

You smile at your friend, "What? You don't think this motherfucker can work an oven? I'm the best motherfucking druggie cook ever."

Tavros clears his throat, "Uh, we don't encourage calling the patients here any derogatory terms that involve their, uh, affliction."

Shaking your head, you wrap your arm around Tavros's shoulder. "Lighten up, Tavbro-"

"Nurse,"

"Nurse Tavbro," You correct, laughing. "You need to just chill. Take a moment and appreciate all of life's miracles."

Karkat scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Here we go again, you and your fucking miracles. I think we've found the second coming of Christ, guys. He's an insane stoner."

Tavros sighs and looks at you, "Well, it doesn't really matter what the group does… You enrolled in the individual treatment course, so anything you'd do would be by yourself and a warden."

"Do I get to all up and choose my warden?"

"Well, I'm your assigned warden, so…" Tavros blushes, "You're kinda stuck with me."

"Good!" You exclaim, clasping your hands together. "I would have chosen you any way, Tavbro."

Tavros doesn't correct you on not using 'Nurse', but instead he sighs and looks down at his wristwatch. "It's almost time for your appointment, so, uh, we'd better get going."

Karkat groans, sitting up from the bed. "I'm taking that as my signal to leave."

You watch as Karkat gets up and playfully punches your shoulder, whispering something to Tavros that you can't quite hear. Tavros nods at whatever the motherfucker said, and Karkat leaves silently afterwards.

* * *

Doctor Ampora is a really big dick. You find this out while sitting on top of a gurney, your arm being exposed so that they could take your blood and do some tests. You're more on the muscular side than you are on the lanky-olive-branch side, and that's the first thing Doctor Ampora comments on.

"W-well, aren't w-we rather muscular?" He says, snapping some gloves onto his slender hands. You notice that he's wearing a blue scarf. A doctor wearing a blue scarf while taking blood from a patient. Again, you wonder about the qualifications of the people associated with this clinic. "My name is Eridan Ampora, but you may address me as Doctor Ampora."

"Why thank you, motherfucking doctor guy." You said, and Doctor Ampora rolls his eyes. "Gamzee motherfucking Makara is my name."

"Perhaps you ought to w-watch your mouth, Mr. Makara." Doctor Ampora says, drawing out a needle from one of the cabinets that surrounded the room. "Remember that I have the needle."

His stuttering with the 'w's annoys you somewhat, but you ignore it, flinching slightly when the needle penetrates your skin.

"I see you aren't a heroine user, then." Eridan whispers to himself rather loudly, extracting some blood. "They never flinch w-when the needle enters them. They're used to it, I guess."

You frown a little, "That's a little harsh, doctor dude."

"They don't pay me to be nice." He replies, putting the blood sample somewhere- you don't exactly remember because you were too busy noticing how much of a douchebag he was- and gave you band aid to put over the wound from the needle.

He ran a few other medical tests on you, too. He measured your height and weight and asked you about health. "Are you a marijuana user?" Eridan says after some questions.

You look around the office, decide you might as well tell him. He'd find out eventually with all the tests being done- plus, aren't the majority of people that he checks here for the same reason?

"Yep," You say begrudgingly. Doctor Ampora nods, writing the information in a legal pad he was using to take notes of everything else that you had answered.

"They say that actually has beneficial medical values." Doctor Ampora begins, pressing a stethoscope to your chest. "Breathe in and out slowly."

You scoff, breathing like he told you to. "I don't know about you, doc, but it sure makes me a better motherfucker."

"I believe that that's something w-we call bullshit."

You scowl. No one really understands what your weed means to you. They were little miracles in smoke-able blunts. You needed them to function, to be a better person. This Eridan guy was starting to piss you off. He was reminding you that you were sober, and that was never a good thing. Your insides twisted and coiled together like snakes. It was only day one. You were stronger than that. You wouldn't hurt anybody. Not today, anyway.

"What?" You ask, clawing at the gurney you were sitting on. "You don't believe in miracles?"

"No." He says flatly, taking off the stethoscope. "Miracles grant leeway to magic, and magic is the most preposterous thing. Magic doesn't exist, so neither do miracles."

This guy is a really, really big dick. He is the human embodiment of a penis.

"Well, on the bright side, your vitals seem okay." Doctor Ampora hums, patting you on the head. It was a lot of self-control that kept you from ripping his hand off. If you see him tomorrow, however, when your craving for a blunt would drive you insane, you will rip his arm right out of its socket.

"Geez, thanks doc," You reply, your voice sharp with distain.

"No problem, Mr. Makara." He smiles at you, and you want to pull every tooth out of his mouth one by one. He looks at the clock on the wall, a clock you couldn't read because you have no motherfucking idea how to read roman numerals, and then turns to you again.

"You have a seminar to go to, don't you?" Doctor Ampora asks. You nod and he nods in return, "I'll call your warden. You've been assigned Tavros?"

You nod again, and he presses a button to speak into an intercom. "Nurse Nitram, your patient is ready to be picked up."

You hear Tavros's nervous voice answer back, saying that he'd be there in a few minutes. You thank whatever entity you believe in, because you couldn't stand being in here with the motherfucking douche doctor for much longer. You continued to sit on the gurney awkwardly until Tavros arrived, and you couldn't have sprang out of that place any quicker. It was like Speedy Gonzales, the Road Runner, and Sonic the Hedgehog had a threesome that produced a lovechild of speed, and you were that lovechild as you rushed out of the door to Tavros.

"Bro, the motherfucker in there was a huge dickwad." You said once you were out of Doctor Ampora's earshot.

Tavros, surprisingly, didn't object to what you were saying. Instead, he chuckled. "You should have seen him when he was single. He was an even bigger, uh, douche."

You fill with joy at the fact Tavros is opening up to you more, and you ruffle that little motherfucker's Mohawk again. "Hey, little Tavbro all up and used foul language."

"Uh, oh." Tavros blushed, "Yeah I guess I did."

"This is a motherfucking-"

"Miracle." Tavros cuts off, smiling at you. You can't help but give him the biggest, tightest hug you could. You only let go when he tenses against you and informs you he can't breathe.

"Sorry about that Tavbro," You sigh, patting him on the back.

Tavros takes a few deep breaths before composing himself, "You, uh, have that seminar to go to."

You groan, "Do I really have to?"

The motherfucker nods his head with a sorry expression, "You're scheduled to. It's all a part of cleansing you to make your drug habit, uh, go away."

"I don't want it to go away." You mutter, biting your lip. "It makes me a better motherfucker."

"Well maybe being sober won't make you a better motherfucker, but it might just make you a better person." Tavros said quietly, looking away from you. His words echo in your mind for a little bit. Maybe Tavros understood something you didn't. Hell, he'd been working with patients just like you, he'd seen them get better. You just can't help but wonder-

"Yo, Tavbro." You say, and he looks back up at you. "If it's not too personal, can you tell me about the girl that all up and jumped?"

Tavros flinched for a moment. "Not now. Maybe later today, but you have to, uh, go to the seminar."

So, with that, Tavros guides you over to the room where they would hold the seminar. There are a few of those cheap metal chairs you were sitting in earlier set in a semi-circle around a podium. You sit on the very last chair, away from the people who were already there. Tavros takes the seat next to you, drumming his fingers on his lap. He looks off into the distance blankly, probably thinking.

"You must have to always listen to these motherfucking speeches." You say to him, drawing his attention away from whatever he was staring at.

He smiles half-heartedly. "Yeah, I've heard this speech about a thousand times."

"Do you get tired of it?" You already know the answer. Who wouldn't get tired of listening to the same boring speech over and over again?

"Yeah," Tavros sighs, "But I, uh, I listen anyway. As just a reminder, you know?"

"A reminder of what?" You scoff, "That there are people in this world that are really against miracles? People who have never experienced real euphoria?"

Tavros sighs. "I don't know if you've, uh, noticed, but I'm kinda, uh, against drugs."

You wish you could show this guy what he was missing. No motherfucker should go without a hit. You don't know how other people live their lives without it. You know _you_ can't- you could never be sober forever once you had your first hit.

"If you haven't noticed, Tavbro," You reply, messing with his Mohawk. You really like how soft it feels. "I am very pro-drug. Very, very pro-drug."

Tavros says nothing and looks at the podium. A girl with short black hair and red sunglasses made her way to the podium, a shit-eating grin plastered onto her face.

"Hello? Is everyone here?" She speaks into the microphone, tapping it a few times. The room you were in, an auditorium, you guess, booms with the sound of static. The other people sitting in the circle groan, and the girl at the podium giggles. "Okay, I smell seven of you assholes here. That's how many were scheduled, right?"

Tavros buries his face in his hands, "Oh god. Your first speaker is Terezi."

"Why's that a bad thing? Motherfucker seems like a pretty chill girl." You shrug, watching as she fumbled around with the microphone some more.

"She's just a little-"

"Have you ever thought about what the government thinks about your drug consumption?" Terezi asks, and when no one answers, she goes on. "It's illegal. With a capital 'I'. They don't like it. I'm sure there are other things- other _legal_- things you can do with your time. Like feed pigeons or watch sappy romance movies."

She turns to face you and grins. "You. You smell like weed."

"Thanks?" You say, and a few members of the circle laugh.

"Do you live in California?" She asks, leaning over the podium in a flirty fashion.

"Uh," You look at Tavros, whose hands were still in his face, "No. I live here, in-"

"Exactly!" She exclaims, giggling slightly. "So what you are doing is against the law. Have you ever thought about doing something legal? Like, I don't know. Bake?"

"Oh, I bake." You smile. "I make the best weed cookies in the world."

Tavros tugs on the edge of your shirt, probably trying to hint to you to stop talking, but you just continue to smile at her.

"Eh, okay. I like you, guy-who-smells-like-weed, even if you are a felon." Terezi stands straight up and yawns, "But let's get serious. Even if you like being high in the sky with dragons and shit- I mean, who doesn't like dragons? I know I do-"

You whisper to Tavros, zoning out of Terezi's speech. "I still smell like weed?"

"Terezi has a heightened sense of smell since she's, uh, blind." Tavros says, looking up from his hands. "She's super eccentric with her speeches. I like her, and she helps a lot of the patients out, but she's just… Blunt."

You give a low chuckle. "Nice word choice there, Tavbro."

Tavros thought for a moment and looked up, looking a little guilty, "I didn't mean it that-"

You shake your head dismissively, patting your friend on the back. "Yeah, I know, Tavbro. It's all motherfucking right."

With that, he looks down at the ground and sighs. The both of you stayed silent for the rest of Terezi's speech, which somehow ended up comparing taking drugs to being a dragon who gets a cheap thrill from terrorizing harmless civilians, only to be shot by cops and taken down by the law. In a way, you agree with her.

* * *

You find yourself back in your dorm room, laying on your bed and staring at the ceiling. Tavros sat quietly with his legs crossed in the middle of the room, looking around and absent mindedly running his hands back and forth on the carpet.

"So, what about the girl who jumped?" You ask, looking over at Tavros. He runs his hands through his soft mullet, and sighs.

"Her name was Aradia, and she was a childhood friend of mine." Tavros quietly mutters, "We used to pretend we were fairies and fly around my grandma's backyard until we got tired and passed out on a picnic blanket."

He smiles at the memory, and you can't help but smile along with him.

"We were the best of friends. We knew each other inside and out… But she was always a little, uh…" Tavros pauses. "She was always a little bit more… Adventurous than me. I started working here while she went to school to get a degree in photography."

You nod, making sure that Tavros knows that you're still listening to him. You get up from the bed and move to sit next to Tavros.

"Aradia was really different after she got into drugs. She was a completely different person." Tavros continues, "She got into a lot of things I can't even remember which ones she did and which ones she didn't. I was really worried about her, so I enrolled her here."

You continue to listen, soaking in all of the information. So he was kind of like Karkat, enrolling his best friend in something he knew they wouldn't like for their own good.

"I took care of her for a good week before she snapped." Tavros's face grew sullen. "I walked into her room one day, and I couldn't find her. The window was open, and when I looked down…"

Tavros stopped, a few tears welling up in his eyes. "I saw her there, her body splayed out on the ground, blood on the concrete. A lady downstairs already called 911 for help, and all I could do was, uh. I couldn't do anything." His voice trailed off in a weak, mournful whimper.

You wrapped your arms around Tavros, pulling his body close to yours. You felt him start to sob into your chest, and you held him. You could feel his tears stain through your shirt, his hands gripping tightly onto the back of it. You kissed the top of his forehead, and his eyes- red and puffy from crying- looked up into yours. He swallowed deeply and let a few silent tears drop down his cheeks.

"Y-you know, your f-friend told me to take care of you."

You nod, so that's what Karkat whispered to him earlier this morning. You stroke his hair, still embracing him tightly. "How about we make a motherfucking deal," You whisper. "You can take care of me as long as I can take care of you."

Tavros couldn't be happier to oblige.

* * *

You have no fucking idea how it came down to this. You were completely fine yesterday, and you hadn't smoked the entire day. You were fine. You could function. Things were looking up.

Today was a completely different story. You woke up and the first thing your senses told you to do was get high. You could almost feel little surges of want coursing through your body, ripping you from the inside out. Fuck, you felt hallow. You might as well have been a motherfucking log with how empty you felt inside at that moment. This wasn't a want like how little kids wanted a stuffed animal from a claw machine; this wasn't like wanting to grow taller so that people wouldn't bully you about your height- no. This was the purest most undeniable form of want. This was the want that had you gripping onto something- anything- to keep yourself composed.

Needless to say, you weren't feeling very good.

You really didn't want Tavros to come in through the door, looking cheerful and happy, ready to help you get ready for the day. You didn't want him to come in, because you know you'd do bad things. You'd hurt him. You'd hurt him like you hurt your ex-girlfriend.

You didn't want him to, but he did.

He was pinned up against a wall before he even knew what hit him.

"Gamzee, what are you-"

"I'm really fucking tired, Tavbro." You mutter, hand clasping around his throat. Tavros looks absolutely terrified, and somewhere in your heart, something stirs. You suppose it's the high trapped inside of you telling you no. It's the high begging to be released, begging for you not to do this to Tavros, but…

You grab his leg, feeling how fragile it is in your hands. It would be so easy just to snap it in two, like it were a pencil or a twig.

"Gamzee- Gamzee please stop." Tavros begs, tears welling up in his eyes. You wish you could- oh, you wish you could stop. You don't want to hurt him, you really, really don't want to hurt him.

"If I could, I would." You say in a hushed tone, your voice low. "I would if I could."

It's only after you've done the deed, blood staining your hands and the carpet below Tavros, that you realize how easy his legs broke in two.

**Okay, I promise this isn't over. The second part will be up soon, I swear. There'll be a better ending than that. **

**I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I hope you guys stick around for the second part **


	2. Chapter 2

**(Thank you to everyone who liked the first part of this story! I hope this conclusion is up to par with the first part. I'd like to apologize for how long it took to update this story, but I really, really wanted it to be the best that it could be. Also, I'd like to say that this story is _very_ unrealistic, and I'm sorry for that, too. I tried my best to keep it as believable as possible, but this is a work of _fiction_. So anything is possible, right? :c This is still dedicated to the same person it was before, and I really hope that she and all of you enjoy this conclusion!)**

* * *

You wake up in a white room, which you assume is some sort of twisted purgatory made for you to wait in while they prepare your one-way express to the fires of hell. Your assumption is shot down the moment you realize Karkat is leaning over you, and you begin to pick up on the fact that you were just in Doctor Ampora's examination room, laying down on the gurney. Unless, of course, both Karkat and Doctor Ampora were going to accompany you on your train ride to the flaming pit- and in that case, you weren't very surprised.

Again, Karkat blew bullets into your theory, sighing with relief once he saw that your eyes were open. "Fucking finally, Gamzee."

Pain shoots through your sides as you try to sit up, and you let a small groan pass through your lips. Karkat laughs sheepishly, and you give him the dirtiest motherfucking look you could muster. "What did you do to my body, bro?"

"Nothing, dumbass." Karkat mutters, arms folding across his chest. "I had to calm you down somehow, didn't I?"

It took you a little while to figure out what the fuck he was going on about, but it hits you like a motherfucking freight train when you remember. It was fuzzy and unclear, but you could just faintly recall taking Tavros's frail legs into your hands and breaking them both. Karkat had come in after the ordeal and 'calmed you down' (i.e. kicked your sides and knocked you out so that he could keep you down long enough to get help.) Oh god… How could you do that to poor Tavbro? Your stomach churns, and you could feel Karkat's hand on your head, ruffling your hair slightly.

"You really did a number on him." Your friend says bluntly, and you sink back into your gurney, fists clenched for a reason you couldn't name.

"Is he… Okay?" You're almost afraid to ask, but the words find their way out of your throat, anyway. Karkat sighs, looking away from you.

"Alive, at least."

That was the same thing Karkat had told you all those months ago, when you had woken up in the hospital a few feet away from your now ex-girlfriend. Those memories flooded back into your brain, making your throat dry and your chest heavier, and suddenly, it was harder to breathe. You don't wanna think about what might have happened to Tavros- you really don't. It was getting hard to ignore your thirsting for a blunt now; you needed something to distract you from the thoughts in your head. The thoughts that wormed their way through the repressed corners of your mind could only be taken away by your greens.

"Karkat, please." You beg in a low voice, the feeling of guilt washing over you like a huge tsunami. "C'mon man. Just one hit. I need one blunt. Just one."

Karkat buried his face in his hands, his anger clearly being suppressed. You almost want to congratulate him, knowing that controlling his anger wasn't Karkat's strong suit. "You don't know how glad I am that you never took any of the really hard drugs. You'd be a dead man, Gamzee."

The words barely faze you. You found more 'hard' drugs highly overrated. Weed was working perfectly fine for you all these years, and you were a firm believer in 'if it isn't broken, don't fix it.' You didn't accept that as an answer, though. "So is that a no?"

If Karkat were an old cartoon character, you would see steam blowing out of his ears- or maybe those weird semi circles that anime characters would usually have on their head when they were pissed off. In any case, if Karkat were an old cartoon character, he would be expressing whatever old cartoon characters expressed when pissed off.

Of course, Karkat wasn't an old cartoon character, so instead of blowing steam out of his ears, he promptly began to spew some very colorful language at you. So colorful, in fact, even rainbows seethed in envy of the color-filled words directed solely at you.

In the end, Karkat had indeed meant that you were not to have any weed. Not now, not motherfucking ever. That didn't help your pounding head or your absolute aching to get high. You feel inclined now to ask about Tavros, and taking a big breath, you ask. "What happened to him?"

Karkat stays quiet for a while, and you aren't sure if he's recovering from his yelling at you, or if he's being dead serious. "He can't walk, obviously."

Well, duh. "Is that it?"

Karkat purses his lips, drumming his fingers at the edge of your gurney. "The doctors don't know if he'll be able to walk again, ever."

Your eyes become as wide as the Titanic, and you get up from the gurney quickly, despite your sore sides and your aching head. Karkat glares at you, a look that says 'stay the fuck down, or I will castrate you over a smoldering fire.' You don't pay attention, though, and simply make your way to the door, your hand reaching for the handle.

"What the fuck are you even doing?" Karkat asks, frustrated. Slapping your hand away from the handle, he tried to push you back onto the gurney. Would he never understand that you were much taller and stronger than he was? Probably not.

"I need to see him." You reply simply, and Karkat shakes his head disapprovingly, crossing his arms across his chest again. He looks like a little midget body guard, and you would laugh if the situation weren't so serious.

"He's not even here, fuckass." Karkat said, "He's at the Betty Crocker Corp. Hospital down town. The jerks at this place wouldn't be able to fix Tavros's legs if he were made out of fucking play dough."

You assume that Karkat had met Doctor Ampora- the greatest example of being a complete and utter dick-face.

"Betty Crocker Corp. Hospital?" You ask, the name feeling familiar. More waves of guilt began to punch you in the face when you start to recall why it felt that way. "Isn't that where-"

"Yeah." Karkat replies, knowing what you were going to say.

Your ex-girlfriend was staying at that hospital, probably lying unconscious on a hospital bed, hooked up to a bunch of foreign machines monitoring her heart rate among other things, like she had been the last time you saw her. Your relationship with her was fairly complicated, in your mind. While you two had only been dating for a couple of months with no intentions of being 'together forever', she was always trying to change you into the perfect guy. It started with changing your messy hair into a slicked back, neat, short cut style and ended with trying to change your drug habits. You suppose she meant well, if not being a bit controlling. She always loved the idea of you more than she actually even _liked_ the real you, but you didn't really mind. You wouldn't really call yourself a womanizer, but girls really did clamor after you like you were a celebrity or something. Was it your hair?

But, in any case, you were never really that close to her. There was very little you two even knew about each other, other than your names and the fact that she thought Tyrian purple was absolutely fabulous. (You fancied yourself more of a fan of indigo, but she insisted you paint your apartment Tyrian.) You still cared about her to some extent, as you _were_ a decent guy when high.

Needless to say, you didn't visit her often. Just because you were too motherfucking guilty to look at her defenseless and unconscious like that. You realize that the both of you hadn't even properly broken up- but you're pretty sure that once she wakes up and remembers what happened, it'd be pretty clear that the two of you weren't together anymore.

"I _need_ to see him." You plead to Karkat. Your friend rolls his eyes.

"Not now." Karkat replies, "Later. I need to fill out some paperwork."

Your eyes glisten with hope. Was he going to un-enroll you out of this hellhole? Were you gonna be free to go back to your nice, comfy Tyrian painted apartment, and back to your stash of weed? "Paperwork for what?"

"I'm making you stay longer."

Your jaw drops. "Longer?"

Karkat nods, placing his hands on your shoulders. He examines your eyes, looking at you- probably trying to see inside your soul or some motherfucking shit. "Look, I know you can do this. I'm making them give you a nurse who's…" He pauses. "Stronger. Stronger in the sense that he won't put up with your shit, physically or otherwise."

You walk back to the gurney and sit down on it, defeated. Again, you were a helpless little kid in the arms of a grownup who was making all of the decisions for you. You wanted to throw up. You felt so helpless and weak. You couldn't possibly live this down for much longer. "How much longer?"

"Three months?" Karkat says, a bitter smile plastered onto his face. "It'll be longer if you still haven't coped out of this addiction."

You felt like a balloon being slowly deflated. The need for a high that had been clawing at your sides like a monster that hid underneath the beds of little kids began to dig its unpolished nails deep into your torso, dragging its dirty fingers into the very core of your motherfucking being.

You couldn't do anything. You couldn't do anything other than await the arrival of your new, 'stronger' nurse and wade out your time in this prison. If you happened to get better in that time, so be it. But you doubted it. You doubted it harder than you have ever doubted anything in your whole entire life.

* * *

Your new nurse is most definitely 'strong'. Not only is he staggeringly taller than you, even if you were pretty tall yourself (you liken yourself to the height of your average circus clown- but not the midget ones- the ones on the stilts that rode elephants or some shit), he was also rather muscular. So muscular, in fact, that you thought he was very capable of breaking every single bone in your body just by looking at you for too long. Luckily for you, his vision was obscured by broken sunglasses. You were too intimidated to ask why they were broken- so you just left the subject untouched and far off into a motherfucking corner. A very, very far off motherfucking corner. He honestly scared you, a little bit. You would have to be pushed off the ledge _real_ hard if you were to do _anything _to this guy.

Karkat sure knows how to pick 'em.

It was a few weeks after your incident with Tavros that you actually asked Equius if, on one of their free days, you could go to the hospital to see how your old nurse was doing. You made sure to be extra polite in asking, too, lest Equius become angry and touch your shoulder, thus breaking your entire arm.

"No." He said stoically, and you didn't have to be told twice.

That night, you lay awake in your bed, staring at the window. Now, suicide by jumping still seemed way too messy for you, but in a momentary rush of insanity, you thought about climbing out the window and running all the way to the hospital down town to see if Tavros was okay. You thought about this for a while, and decided against it. Even if you had succeeded getting out of the window, which you had fumbled around with and discovered that they were in fact sealed shut, and if you had somehow made your way through town, running like a mad man in your pajamas, you would make it to the hospital only to be greeted by the receptionist, who would tell you visiting hours are over. You'd beg and plead, maybe even crying a little; she'd just roll her eyes, tapping her finely polished nails on the tabletop, and tell you once again that _visiting hours are over_.

So, you didn't entertain the thought further, and you fell asleep.

When you woke up, Equius was standing over you, looming over you like a hawk. You almost shudder wondering how long he stood there for, but before you could say anything, Equius began listing what your schedule had in store for you today. It was mostly eat breakfast, attend an informational speech from various people (your favorite by far was that insane blind girl) and/or have an awkward chat with Equius about your drug 'urges'- which would be a group thing, but Karkat had told Jade that you were to be alone. Alone, alone, alone- then you would eat lunch, watch a movie or something in your room, eat dinner, bed. You were bored out of your own mind, and the only thing that made your day a little bit better was Karkat's very frequent visits- so frequent, Jade offered him a free room right next to yours, but Karkat declined. Apparently, he liked waking up at six 'o clock in the morning and driving over to the rehab clinic.

You still hadn't seen Tavros. Sometimes, the urge to see him outmatched the urge to have a blunt. You would constantly ask Equius, being more and more polite with your asking each time, but he always said no. Since that was the only place you wanted to go to on your 'free days', Equius would usually just take you to wherever his niece-best friend-cousin-who-knows-what-the-hell-they-are-partner named Nepeta wanted to go. At first glance, you thought she was a very sweet little girl with a fondness for cats, but you eventually learned that she was a woman the same age as you- a fierce huntress who was licensed in hunting deer and other forest animals, who had a fondness for cats. Today, she wanted to go see that new Pixar movie.

After running it over with Jade, who said it was a perfectly fine and kind of sweet way to spend the day, you sat through over an hour of Scottish accents and bears. (Although, you did tear up a little at the end. You were almost certain that Equius did, too.)

Karkat decided to check up on you after the movie, and you both found yourselves sitting on the rods that railed the sides of the theater, staring at the upcoming attractions.

"I still haven't seen Tavbro." You sigh, and Karkat pats you on the shoulder.

"I'd take you," He begins, "But that Equius guy would have to approve or I'm, in Jade's words, 'kidnapping you.'"

You give a short chuckle, as Karkat had tried imitating Jade's voice and failed quite miserably. You looked over at Equius, who was taking pictures of Nepeta standing next to the poster for the movie you just saw, and you sighed. "He'd never let me go. I've been motherfucking pleasant as hell, and he's done nothing but say no."

Pursing his lips, Karkat nodded his head and shrugged. "You got to be a little more assertive, maybe. Really force him down on his knees. Make him sweat."

You snort, smiling wide. "I don't think he needs help sweating, bro."

But despite your dismissive laughs, you think it over. Assertiveness? You're not sure if you could handle that shit. It was for the big boys- the major league players. You were just the stoner bench player in a minor league series. You were the little kid who the older kids laughed at. The uncoordinated little boy that the pitchers purposely threw balls at. Fuck, were you tired of it all.

* * *

The morning of the next day went down a little differently than you expected it to. Equius had woken you up because you had slept in a few minutes late, and had informed you that you would be missing a seminar if you waited a moment longer.

Raising your head from the pillow, your chaotic black hair messier than usual due to your restless tossing and turning, you glared at Equius. You felt a little uncomfortable, but hey. Karkat said be assertive.

"I'll wake up when I motherfucking want to." You growled, voice low and laced with aggravation.

Equius stood shocked for a moment, his eyes no doubt going wide underneath his cracked shades. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it and nodded. "A-as you wish, Mr. Makara."

Wait. What the fuck? You look at Equius again, and you see him sweating bullets and clenching his fists, which you were afraid meant that he would hit you for a singular moment, but he unclenches them and steps away from your bed.

"I will tell the speaker that you were feeling unwell."

It worked.

Karkat, you fucking genius.

You decided to test your luck a little further. "Fuck the speaker."

Equius looked absolutely horrified at your vulgar language, gulping around the invisible lump in his throat. He took a deep breath and spoke again, "Would you please come again, Mr. Makara?"

"Fuck the speaker." You say again, shrugging your shoulders, "Take me to the motherfucking hospital."

Your nurse stood tall, regaining some ground. His eyebrows scrunched up, glaring at you. "You should not talk to me in that manner. I am your caretaker while you are here, and you ought to treat me with some respect."

You rolled your eyes. Here they go again. You are reminded that here, in this prison, you are a child. You are a child who needs to be watched over twenty-four-seven. It was cruel how unfair this place could be. You would, oh, _you fucking would_, rip every single person who ever got on your bad side here in half. Then you thought of Tavros and a slimy feeling crawled around in your stomach like a vile earthworm had nested itself into the hollow of your stomach and was beginning to eat the soft tissues of your stomach wall. Tavbro.

You were going to fucking see him. This sweaty asshole wasn't going to stop you.

"Whatever, man." You say, bitterness welling up in your throat. "You just gotta let go. Pull the motherfucking stick outta your ass and just let a man be, you know?"

A few pauses of awkward silence. "No. I don't know."

You laugh, not one of amusement, but this was a different tone. It sounded angry. Angry laughing seemed right for this occasion. A scoff, almost. "Then let me be your motherfucking guide, Nurse. Let me show you how to fucking live."

And even though you can tell the guy is tense and unwilling, he escorts you to the hospital with Karkat. You think that he gets off on this on some level, the whole being submissive thing, but you'd be okay. You'd be motherfucking peachy keen if you got to see Tavros again.

* * *

The hospital smelled of anesthetics and rubber. Everything was much too clean for your tastes. It reeked of an aura of unpleasantness and death, a feeling you couldn't shake off even as you walked through the sleek corridors of the Betty Crocker Corp. Hospital's pristine facility. Places like these always intimidated you; you knew that somewhere in this very building people were in varying amounts of pain and suffering- that people were dying just a few floors above you. You knew that somewhere in here were the two biggest mistakes of your life.

You wanted to fix the one that you could fix as fast as you could. You knew that Tavros would never trust you again, and you'd be damned if he could even stomach seeing your face. You didn't deserve an ounce of that motherfucker's forgiveness. The revving of the air conditioning buzzed through one ear and out the other as you made your way to the receptionist's desk.

There's some blond chick speaking into a headset, giggling every so often. Karkat nudges you forward with his elbow, but you're stuck to your place on the floor. Damn, this place was really bringing you down. Your friend takes the initiative and moves forward first, giving the girl at the counter a scrutinizing glare before she perks her head up, noticing you guys for the first time since you had entered the building.

"Oh," She says, removing the headset from her ears, "Sorry 'bout that."

Karkat grumbles dismissively, saying something about how you came here to visit a friend. She flips through some clipboards with yellow papers and smiles.

"Who ya visiting?" She asks, looking at what you assume are lists of rooms and the people occupying them. You open your mouth to say Tavros Nitram, but you're a split second too late. Karkat's voice easily overpowered yours with a:

"We're here to see Feferi Peixes."

And with that, your stomach dropped to the floor, breaking through the first two layers of earth. Feferi? Your ex-girlfriend? Karkat makes some stupid ass decisions. First he sends you to a fucking rehab center, now he's making you stare down in guilt at the girl you had beat into a coma.

Best fucking friend, he is. A best fucking friend.

The girl at the counter frowns suddenly. "The poor baby has been out cold for months now." She skeptically raises an eyebrow and looks at the both of you. "Who are you guys, exactly?"

"We come from the rehab hospital down the street." Equius's voice booms from behind you. Shit. You forgot that motherfucker was even there. "This man has been persistently asking to visit here. I have chosen to humor his idea."

The lady shakes her head. "I can't really let you in there, sweetie. She's under a sort of special care. Won't even let family in."

Karkat's face falls, but tries again. "He needs to see her."

"Sorry," she says, sounding a little aggravated. "Not my rules, hun."

"Just let him see her." Karkat says, trying to hold back his anger. His face was beginning to tint red, and if you weren't busy being completely and utterly shocked and confused, you would have tried to stop him from flipping out on the girl. You can't help but stand there with a blank expression, motionless. All you can think about is Feferi for a moment. You're brought back to clawing and biting and kicking and hitting. A hand comes up to stroke the scars that trail across your face- and suddenly, they feel freshly opened. The pain was faintly there, reminiscent of only a ghost of what aching used to be there, but at the same time, it was worse.

Karkat and the counter-lady are arguing, but you don't hear any of it. There's only the faint ringing of hushed screams, their voices lowered as to not wake any of the sleeping patients, but inside your head are different voices yelling. Yours and Feferi's.

You thought that you had stomached this guilt, pushed it into the back of your mind and forgot about it. You thought that you wouldn't see her ever again. You thought that maybe that night was just a big dream, and you'd wake up with her hands wrapped around your waist and her face in your chest like nothing had happened.

There was something fucking wrong with you. You knew that now- now that that counter lady, Roxy, a name you managed to make out from Karkat's bickering, gives in and tells you which room Feferi occupied. Karkat solemnly nods his head, inner triumph reining within him while Equius sweats buckets, marching proudly ahead of the both of you to the room Feferi is in. You follow him blindly, not really cognizant of your surroundings. All you can tell is that your feet are moving and that you're breathing and the hospital still smells funny to you.

Your brain doesn't snap back into place until you find yourself inside of an elevator. An elevator.

Tavros said that elevators were nice.

Suddenly, your brain flips a switch, and it's not just Feferi anymore. It's Tavros, too. Tavros and his sweet pauses in between sentences; Tavros and his insightful little mummers on subjects. You hadn't known him for very long, you'd admit that, but you've already made some sort of connection to him. You've dragged him down into this little shithole with you. Making him immobile had ultimately ruined your chances of forging a friendship, but you considered him a friend.

You could never make it up to him, but you'd spend your entire life trying to.

Feferi, too. There was a point in your relationship where the both of you were on good terms with each other, good enough terms to let her paint your apartment the same color as he damn nails- the nails that scratched across your face, leaving the scars that marked your profile. You guys liked each other. Now there was nothing. No good apology for anything you ever did to her.

"Hey, Makara." Karkat says as you exit the elevator, scanning the doors' labels for Feferi's room number, walking briskly ahead of both you and Equius. "You're zoning out more than usual."

This doesn't snap you out of your mindset, but it does make you return halfway to reality. You're as close to being high as you ever have been while sober, so you try your best to make sense of what was going on as you stare at Karkat. "Ah, nothing, bro. I'm just excited to see Fef again."

There's an edge to your voice, and you're sure Karkat can feel it. He grimaces, and stops walking ahead. The whole world seems to stop in that moment- all the birds stopped flying and all the kids stopped crying and the people in the floors above you stopped dying. Even Equius stopped right in his tracks, but you continue to walk. Past Equius, past Karkat, past everyone. You didn't even know where you were going. You just let the damn wind take you wherever the fuck the wind to take you.

"The hell are you doing, Gamzee?" Karkat says, frustrated. You don't stop, and you turn down the hall, continuing through the halls of doors and meaningless numbers until you stopped. A small window was covered with Tyrian purple construction paper, taped onto the door in hopes of people not being able to see in. Oh, you knew who was in that room.

You jiggle the doorknob, opening the door with little resistance. The room is in a low lighting, small silhouettes visibly being casted against the closed blinds of the opposite wall's huge window. Lying down on a small hospital bed was your ex-girlfriend.

Feferi Peixes, as beautiful as she was before. You're sure you left some bruises and marks that still haven't completely faded on her, but she was just the same. Same long, untamable black hair- same dainty little hands. More importantly, the same manicured nails. You reach a hand over and nudge your thumb close to her hand. You can't tell if they're clammy or cold or hot; you only know that it isn't how you remembered her hand feeling. She couldn't hear you, or feel you, or even have any idea that you were there. Just like you had imagined, she was hooked up to all sorts of machines monitoring her heart rate and supplying necessary oxygen. Her chest rises up and down, slowly and elegantly. The dim yellow light doesn't give you much to see, but you know she's there and alive.

"Hey, Fef, motherfucker." You whisper, kneeling on the ground so you could talk to her better. "Guess you ain't doing very good, huh?"

The closest thing you get to an answer is the humming of the oxygen machine and faint breathing. You can't tell if it's yours or Feferi's, and that small fact makes your chest thud about a million times faster than it was before.

"Yeah, seems like it." You say, and your hand grasps hers. "Say. I know this is probably obvious, but we aren't dating anymore, you know?"

The sound of your own nervous chuckling bounces across the room, echoing. You imagine its Feferi's, laughing right along with you.

"I know, I was never the most sensitive guy in the world."

Nothing.

"In fact, I think I might have the hots for someone else. How insensitive can you even motherfucking get?"

There are footsteps. You think maybe it's Karkat and Equius, but you ignore that.

"I hurt him like I hurt you. Can't believe I messed up like that, again."

Your hand moves from hers, which limply fell back onto the bed, and came up to cup her face, looking at her closed eyes.

"You shouldn't ever forgive me. He shouldn't either."

You give her a soft kiss on the forehead. A warm, unfamiliar saltiness wells up in your eyes, and you loll your head back, staring at the popcorn ceiling with some sort of weird intensity.

Fuck, you needed something to smoke. You needed to get high, and you didn't even care how. Let them shoot you up with a million HIV infected heroine needles; or snort up the filthiest crack that they could find.

Hearing the doorknob jiggle, you stand up from where you were previously kneeling and make your way to the door. You feel empty and hollow when you see Karkat and Equius standing there, the light from outside invading the dimly lit room with ease. You walk out, Equius and Karkat moving apart like elevator doors pulling open, and shut the door quietly.

Karkat steps in front of you, holding a folded map of the hospital and looking deep in your eyes with a concerned expression. You're not up to human communication right now. You want to go home. Not to the rehab center; home. Your Tyrian purple apartment awaits you.

But Karkat doesn't understand that. "Do you want to go see Tavros?"

Yes, yes you motherfucking do. At the same time, though, you don't think you could stomach it. You'd see his face and puke, or just have some sort of mental break down, or try and break his arms, too. You couldn't be trusted around him. You couldn't be trusted around anyone.

But, in this moment, you realized you _had_ to see Tavros. It was too late to apologies to Feferi. She was the one thing that you couldn't fix, and while you knew you couldn't fix what you did to Tavros, you hoped with all your heart that you could at least try to patch it up- no matter how bad the stitch work.

"He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would hold a grudge." Karkat tries to reassure, but you shake your head.

"Lots of people seem like lots of things, Karkat." You whisper as you take the map out of Karkat's hands. You unfold it and trace your finger through the trail that leads to Tavros's room.

This is it, Makara. Don't mess it up.

* * *

You sit outside of Tavros's room, hugging your knees. After about ten minutes of arguing, Karkat had agreed to leave you alone while you visited your old nurse-bro. Equius, who had been more or less awkwardly looming and perspiring for the duration of the trip here, had been dragged by Karkat to the main lobby where they would wait while you try to make amends.

There was no way you had enough nerve to open that door. There was no way that you would ever have the nerve to open that door. You could hear his laughing coming from the other side, along with the music to a familiar old Disney movie you used to watch as a kid.

Eventually, you will yourself to stand, and your hand finds itself hovering over the doorknob. You grasp it, feeling the cool metal against your fingers, but you never turn it. You swallow that weird lump in your throat that had seemed to well up there lately and stare at the door, expression blank. You don't know what you're going to do or say, or even the consequences of what might happen.

What if Tavros sees you and starts having a panic attack? What if he screams? What if you hadn't only harmed him physically, but what if you had damaged him mentally? What if you had broken him?

At that thought, you find yourself subconsciously turning the doorknob and entering the room. Tavros doesn't look up at first, his eyes and attention too focused on the TV fixed to the wall that was currently playing the end to that Disney movie about the kid who never grew up. He's smiling and happy, and that's what makes your instinct to flee the room grow stronger. You run a hand through your hair, and fuck. You hadn't even managed to brush it? The reasons for leaving the room were increasing by the minute, but you couldn't stop staring at him.

As glued to the spot as you were, Tavros only looked over at you once the credits had started rolling. His expression grew from amused to stone cold in three seconds flat, and while you knew he wasn't happy to see you, you couldn't tell if he was angry or not.

You fucking paralyzed him. Of course he's angry.

"Tavbro." You say, and he flinches. God. He's terrified.

He doesn't say anything for a while, but when he does, his words punch you right in the gut. "Don't call me that."

No 'uh' or stutter. Simply a small command said in a small voice. You couldn't leave now- but if you could, you would have.

"Right." You should have known. You lost the right of calling him by his nickname a long time ago. "Uh, well. Hi."

"Hi." He says back. You can't bear to look at him. Your gaze is locked to the floor, and your head is pounding with an unbearable force that rings against your temples. Couldn't you just sink into the ground and disappear?

Your throat is raw and your eyes are tired. There isn't much else you can do to help this situation. Nothing at all.

He's still in the room. You realize that. It's also the part of the conversation where you're supposed to respond- but you can't say anything. There are only two words you can think of to say, and those two words seem cheap and stupid. They're cheap, stupid, and can mend absolutely nothing you did to Tavros.

You say them anyway.

"I'm sorry."

Tavros doesn't say anything for a long time, and you take it as your cue to leave. Fuck, why did you even think that would be a good idea?

"Hey," You hear his voice say, and you let your hand fall from the doorknob. You don't look back, but you close your eyes and brace yourself for whatever Tavros was about to say. Your chest was tight and you couldn't breathe properly, but you try your best to keep composed. "I-It's… It's, uh, okay."

No it isn't. No it fucking isn't. How could he even say that?

"Tav, nah." You say dismissively. Every part of your body is stiff. You were on the verge of doing something. _Something._ You don't even know what. "Don't say that, it isn't-"

"People do things." He interrupts, his voice wavering somewhat. "They do things when they can't think very straight, and they don't think of the consequences or anything that could happen afterwards. I, uh, think it's because we're selfish. People are really selfish and they think about themselves first."

You don't know what he's going on about. He looks solemnly to the window on the opposite side of the room, and then you think you get it. _Aradia._

"I don't know if it helps or what." He continues, this time looking at you. "Are you just insane, or did the drugs make you that way? Have you always had these tendencies? Do these… These… Hallucinogens do this? Do they dilute your insanity?"

He's spit firing a bunch of questions you don't know how to answer. He's making your head hurt and your chest ache. He continues to ask questions pertaining to your sanity, to drugs, to life. You stand there with a blank stare, not knowing what to do.

"Why'd she do it?" He asks, his voice lower. "W-why did you do this?"

And then he's crying. He's crying and still asking questions, and you're still clueless. You're torn between wanting to leave and wanting to curl up next to him and cry with him. Slowly, you make your way over to his bed, and you grab his hand just like you did Feferi's. His first instinct is to pull away, but you hold his hand tighter. You look straight into his eyes. It's difficult for him to look at you, you know that. He's shaking and sobbing and, fuck man, you've never dealt with something like this before.

The bed is big enough for you to take a seat next to him, and you stroke his hand and his hair. It's still as soft as you remember his hair being; his hand pleasantly warm, unlike Feferi's. His sobbing descends to a few hiccupping coughs after a while, and Tavros takes a moment to breathe. You look down for the first time since you entered the room.

It would be insensitive to take off Tavros's covers to inspect your damage, but you wanted to. What could the doctors even do? Saw off his legs and make a pair of robo-replacements?

Tavros looks at you tiredly. "Can you scoot me over? You need, uh, some more room."

Is he really inviting you to lie down? After all the horrible things that you did, he was still willing to let you lay down with him?

Either he was a saint, or you were way too fucking lucky to have this guy in your life.

"I motherfucking can't, Tavros." You say, but the look in Tavros's eyes tells you that he needs you there with him. You gently scoop him up in your arms and move him enough so that you had enough space to lie down. As delicately as you could, you put him back on the bed and laid down right next to him.

He closes his eyes, sighing deeply.

There's a silence between the two of you, mostly because you don't know what to say. What can you say?

His head lolls to the side, coming into contact with your shoulder after a while. Your eyes, tired from everything and nothing at the same time, shift over to see Tavros breathing deeply. He had seemed to fall asleep in the time that you were there; how long were you there for? It might as well have been eternity. That's what it felt like lying next to Tavros. It was the most pleasant feeling of eternity that you had ever known. He looked peaceful in his sleep, so much more at ease than you had ever seen him being when he was awake.

You smile bitterly. Damn. He didn't deserve to be like this. It was your fault.

You try getting up, but you could feel a lazy, warm hand wraps around your arm. Tavros is still half asleep, but he opens his eyes just a smidge and mutters one word and one word only.

"Stay."

And so you stay.

* * *

All good things have to come to an end, however. You remember being shaken out of your perfect slumber by a very angry Karkat, who had informed you later that he had been waiting hours for you to come back. You had managed to slip out of the hospital bed without waking Tavros. You motherfucking knew you were going to see him again. You had to.

Life went on as usual for a while at the rehab center: bland days and bland nights thinking about only one person; regular checks with Doctor Ampora who was surprised by your shockingly okay mood. Things were maybe looking up.

Tavros's words still rung in your head. Little bro didn't know anything about you and your greens. It was complicated. Yeah, they weren't the most addictive drugs in the world. Yeah, not many people flip out like you when they don't have any for a while but… You feel just a little different than them.

They're all you've ever known, really. Couldn't hold down a proper fucking job or relationship with anything that wasn't marijuana; couldn't convince even your closest friend that you were better with them than without them. They were your motherfucking escape. Reality was a hard fucking stone wall, and you didn't like to have your face shoved against it while being royally fucked over from behind by life.

But you didn't even count the months that passed by. Karkat said three more, but you were so motherfucking sure it was more than three.

Then Karkat walks in one day with a two small cards and a messily wrapped rectangular present.

"Red envelope's mine." He says simply, handing you said envelope. "The brown one and the present are from someone else."

Then you remember. It was your birthday, wasn't it?

"I'll take you to the hospital later, if you want." Karkat offers, folding his hands over his chest. "Just call fucking Equius or something."

You begin to open the red envelope, but Karkat ruffles your hair. "Hey. Happy birthday, asshole."

And then he's out of the room, leaving you alone with just your cards and present to keep you company. Fuck. How old were you turning? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? You don't fucking remember.

Your attention falls back to the red envelope. You tear it open carefully and read its contents.

_Just a little longer._

_I know you can do it._

_Sorry._

- _Karkat_

You remember now why he's your best friend. Putting the envelope next to you on the bed, you take the brown one into your hands and twirl it for a few minutes. There aren't many people who would even think to give you a letter for your birthday, much less an actual present.

You open it, and smile at the familiar cartoon character on the front of the card. The boy who never grew up- the green bastard in spandex that Tavros seemed to have an affinity for- stared at you smiling from the card. You open it, and whatever cheesy saying that the card companies had decided was 'witty' was all whited out except for the word 'believe.'

Underneath that was a note scribbled in unfamiliar, small handwriting. You could almost hear Tavros's voice ringing in your head while you read the note, smiling all the while.

_My nurse took my things from the rehab clinic a little while ago. Your file was still in my box for some reason, so I looked at it and saw that it was your birthday today. So, happy birthday. I told Karkat to get you that little present for me when he visited. (He visits a lot without you. I think he's trying to make sure I'm okay around you or something before letting you back in. Kinda ridiculous, right?) And it's in that package. Maybe it'll help you smile a bit more. Uh, Everyone needs to be cheered up a little bit, right? Well. Happy Birthday. I hope it's full of miracles. _

- _Tavros_

Tavros. You didn't deserve to know that motherfucker. You didn't deserve to be on the same motherfucking planet as him, much less have this guy's forgiveness.

The present rests in your lap, and you're almost afraid to open it. Whatever Tavros had gotten you, you're sure it's perfect.

It was a small clown make up kit, you find out once you remove the wrapping. It wasn't full of traditional clown colors, just faded gray and white. You give a small chuckle. That would definitely paint a smile onto your face, even if you didn't want to.

There's a bathroom down the hallway, which you hurriedly made your way to with clown makeup in hand. Once there, you stare into your reflection. Staring back at you was the face of someone who had done bad to everything and anyone who had ever come in contact with him. Scars that marred an otherwise regular looking face would haunt you forever. You've tried several types of cover-up, but none of them had worked. Then again, you had never tried paint.

It took you a while to get a style of paint layered onto your face that you liked, and even longer to try getting used to your new face. The scars were almost fully concealed, and you smiled broadly and genuinely. A new face for a new person, you guess. You couldn't wait to show Tavros. He'd love it.

You exit the bathroom and walk back to your room. The feeling of guilt and anger towards yourself still lingered in the pit of your stomach, but those thoughts slowly churned and digested in your stomach. It hurt like hell, but you thought that was just your way of getting over it.

Equius eventually comes into the room and looks at your make-up skeptically, but you smile at him and he decides not to ask any questions. He informs you that you are to go to a speech today, with the speaker being that crazy blind girl that you like. Instead of protesting, you decide to go along with it.

"Would it bother you if I asked why exactly you have decided to make yourself over in that-" Equius pauses, seeming to try and look for a better word. "Face paint."

You shrug, "I think it all up and motherfucking suits me."

And those were the last words anyone had to say on the subject.

* * *

Feferi woke up from her coma on a rainy Saturday in the middle of the night. From what you've heard from Karkat, she doesn't remember a thing. Fine is a word that could not be used to define her yet, but you were glad she was okay. In a few weeks' time, she'd be picked up by her sister (Meenah, if you can remember correctly. She was a pretty fly chick.) and taken home. Karkat had already given all of Feferi's stuff back to the Peixes family months ago, so talking to her would be almost unneeded.

It seems like Karkat is always there to pick up the broken pieces to the things you've destroyed. He was there the time you broke your arm in sixth grade when you tried to do a backflip on his trampoline, and he was there now, when the aftermath of your mistakes are boiling down into a fine, mistake-stew. You owe him so fucking much.

Sober as ever, you find yourself not wanting any greens. The urge was instinctual, worming it's way in and out of your head from time to time, but it wasn't as strong as before. It wasn't even because the rehab clinic had changed you, you still had controversial doubts about that, but just that…

Maybe you were growing up. Maybe you were moving on. Things were changing all of a sudden, and somehow, it feels like a second puberty to you. You couldn't properly think straight, for all your thoughts had been jumbled up into an incomprehensible mess. Things were tying themselves together in a way that even you didn't understand.

You had visited Tavros again, and he smiled softly at the fact that you had used the makeup he bought you. You had been wearing it every single day since you got it, and it was almost out.

"I could go ask one of my nurses to buy you another one for me-" He says once, but you shake your head.

"I've put you through enough motherfucking trouble, don't you think?"

And he doesn't argue.

He's tense around you still, you can tell, but the chance of being friends with him wasn't completely destroyed yet. You planned on keeping it that way.

His eyes flicker constantly while talking to you, almost as if he's trying to rest his eyes on anything but yours. You manage your way through some slightly awkward dialogue, but you soon find out about your similarities. Things you could talk about. Slam poetry for one.

After that particular visit, the both of you had decided to do an impromptu rap battle. The worst one in the world, Karkat had grumbled underneath his breath, but you couldn't care less. Horrible or not, rapping with Tavros was the best feeling in the world to you. It didn't take you long at all for you to realize that you were maybe in love. Just maybe.

And just maybe Tavros could feel the same way, somehow. You wouldn't rest until he felt safe and comfortable around you again, and while you could never- _never_- make up for what you had done to him, you'd try for the rest of your life to do just that.

More or less, everything seemed okay.

* * *

You had stopped counting the days that you had been sober for. It had become pointless, really. Tavros was proud, and though he still had his doubts, Karkat was, too. You waited in the same waiting room that you did on day one, looking up at the lights like you had before. Things were looking up. Literally.

Karkat had come to pick you up and sign you out, and Jade smiled at the both of you. She even gave you a smiley face sticker, which you made sure to stick onto Karkat's head.

"Keep that up," he growled, taking the sticker off of his head and throwing it onto the ground, "And I'll make you stay here longer."

At that, you hit him lightly on the back of the head and chuckled. "I really don't think that's motherfucking necessary anymore, bro."

He drove you home, and you were anxious to see your own apartment again. How long had you even spent inside the clinic? You don't remember anymore, anyway. All you know is that soon you'd be home, and that Karkat would be staying over with you for a few nights, just to make sure you were okay. Best fucking friend, he was.

The Tyrian purple of the room is unsettling, still, but you're keeping it. Not so that it could remind you of the bad things that have happened, but because Feferi would have liked it that way. Maybe one day you'd get the nerve to paint over it, but that day is not today.

Checking your phone calls, you had a few from your other friends. Asking if you were okay, telling you good luck and all that shit. They made you both sad and happy, but you promised yourself you'd see all of them soon. Another was from Tavros, who said that Karkat told him about your release from the rehab clinic.

The last one is the one that put you off, and made your eyes wide with something akin to fear.

"Yo. Not sure if you remember me or anythin', but I know my sister doesn't remember you. Kinda want to keep it that way. Fine with you, right?"

Karkat wasn't worried about Meenah calling. In fact, he shrugged it off and told you not to worry about it either. Even if she knew what had happened, she wasn't going to do anything. You forgot what you had done to get on her good side, but you're thankful that you did.

Still, her words echoed in your head. You guess that you really will never see Feferi ever again.

* * *

Your name is Gamzee Makara. Your name is Gamzee Makara, and you've been sober for longer than you've ever been in your entire life. You sit down on a park bench while Tavros works out his new robo-legs. You honestly didn't think it was possible, but it had happened. The park was his favorite place to be, you had figured out, and he looked like such a cute little kid playing on the monkey bars and sliding down the slides. You can't help but feel the pang of guilt that races through you whenever you see the silver poke out from underneath his jeans, gleaming unpleasantly in the sunlight. That was your fault- that he couldn't feel from the knee down, and while he looked happy now, you knew that sooner or later it would sink in that he didn't have his legs. When that happened, you'd be there for him. You'd hold him and whisper apologizes and sweet nothings into his ear, and make sure he'd be alright. For now, though, you enjoy watching him happy.

He even convinces you to come and slide down with him a couple of times. You wrap your arms around his waist and let him sit on your lap as you slide, deciding that you've never felt more complete. Tavros filled your entire being with more euphoria than any amounts of drugs ever could.

Little kids looked at you weirdly, but you didn't mind. Tavros felt a little uneasy, but you assured him everything would be okay, and quickly kissed him on the cheek.

You don't know what came over him, but he took your face in his hands and kissed you on the lips- and you're sure it's the best feeling in the world- just that simple action. In that moment, you realize that you're in love.

Things wouldn't be perfect for a while, you knew that. There were still kinks you needed to work out, things you needed to say and do, but your life wasn't over yet. For now, everything was _your _definition of perfect.

You wouldn't trade that for anything.


End file.
